


written in his aura, flowing through his veins

by GirlOfSaltAndStars



Category: Welcome to Night Vale, White Collar
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Gen, POV Outsider, POV Peter Burke, Sad Ending, Sort Of, Typical Night Vale Weirdness, Worried Peter, neal's past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26055424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlOfSaltAndStars/pseuds/GirlOfSaltAndStars
Summary: Neal was a lot of things. Unexplainable was one of them. The more Peter learned about him, the less he knew. Neal was an enigmaPeter spent years of his life trying to know Neal. In this universe, Neal is from Night Vale, and that only makes things harder.
Relationships: Peter Burke & Neal Caffrey
Comments: 3
Kudos: 67
Collections: Crossworks 2020





	written in his aura, flowing through his veins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KuroHikaTsuchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuroHikaTsuchi/gifts).



> I LOVE this idea- I might run with it a little later. I ended up cutting quite a bit of content to better the flow but this is such a lovely crossover idea I just HAD to write it! 
> 
> It is relatively canon-compliant for both WC and WTNV, but there are more direct spoilers for White Collar, especially the ending. 
> 
> I really hope that you enjoy this! I had so much fun writing it!

Neal Caffery was many things. He was a talented artist and forger, exceptionally charming, a brilliant con man (loathe as Peter was to admit it), and smarter than most people gave him credit for. That was one of the things that made Peter the only man ever to catch Caffery. He might not be quite as smart as Caffery, but he was just as determined and didn’t underestimate the con for a minute. That’s how he got away. 

On the other hand, Neal was also loyal, an incredibly hard worker, and when you got to know him, he could be a genuine guy. 

He was all of those things and more- Peter learned something new about his CI even six months after they started working together- but never was Neal happy to do paperwork. 

Getting Neal to fill out paperwork was liking trying to pull teeth or convince his superiors to give them a better budget. It was pretty near impossible. 

That’s why Peter was certain Neal was up to something when he found the CI at his desk doing paperwork instead of bugging Peter about their newest case. When he finally had to get Neal so that they could head into the field, well, that’s when Peter really knew something was up. 

“Come on, Neal, we’re gonna be late,” Peter said, rapping his knuckles on Neal’s desk, that for once, Neal appeared to be actually using to do his paperwork. 

“Just go ahead without me Peter, I’ll just stay here and do paperwork,” Neal said, not even look in up. 

Peter was stunned into silence, and from the look on Jones’ face, he wasn’t hearing things. 

“What?” he finally managed“You, want to stay here, and do paperwork?” 

“Yes,” Neal said, and for his part, he was giving his lie a valiant effort. He was making eye contact and his voice was even “Aren’t you the one that’s always saying that I should be more diligent in my duties, including paperwork. I’m listening to you, Peter!” 

Peter narrowed his eyes “Uh uh. You’ve worked here six months and never once have you done paperwork willingly- especially not when you have a chance to go out into the field.” 

Neal scoffed “That isn’t true!” 

Peter just arched an eyebrow.

“Fine, fine. I get it. But I’m turning over a new leaf Peter. Isn’t that what this is about- me getting the chance to change myself for the better. Are you really going to deny me that chance?” Neal said imploringly. Jones didn’t even try to hide his snort of laughter from across the room. 

“I suppose I am,” Peter said, crossing his arms. His options were to take a cranky Neal or a suspiciously cooperative Neal alone in the FBI building. Peter knew his agents were good agents but, well, Peter would rather take his chances with Neal’s foul mood. “You’re coming with me, end of story. Now come on. We have to be there soon.” 

\--- 

“Are you ok?” Peter asked, casting Neal an admittedly worried look. Neal was staring up at the entrance to the library, arms crossed, fixing the building with a suspicious glare. Peter had never quite seen Neal this worked up- except maybe over Kate. and if Peter didn’t know better, he might think that Neal, reckless and unflinching, was scared. 

But there was no reason for Neal to be scared of this building, right? Unless- “Have you stolen something from here?” 

Neal startled- a rare occurrence- then gave Peter a confused look. “No? I’ve never been here before. There is nothing in there that is worth enough to convince me to break in there.” 

Peter raised his hands in mock surrender. “Ok, ok. Just asking. Besides, someone decided that there was a book worth stealing. That’s why we’re here after all.” 

Neal pursed his lips and cast another glare at the building (which, Neal, really? What could a library have done to you?). “Don’t remind me. And I don’t care. I wouldn’t go in there to steal anything.” 

Peter rolled his eyes “Come on. We’re already late. I don’t know what your problem is but you need to get over it so we can solve this case.” 

Neal wasn’t happy- that much was very obvious from the scowl fixed on his face- but he did fall in step behind Peter, so Peter wasn’t going to push the issue. 

Not even when he thought he heard Neal mutter “I bet they haven’t even burned it down this year.” as they walked in. It must have been the stress from working late Like EL was always saying because there is no way that he actually heard Neal say that. 

But, he couldn’t account for the fact that Neal spoke less than ten words to the very pretty head librarian, and practically jumped out of his skin when she touched him. Peter had no idea what was wrong with Neal ( and told him that much. Neal just set his jaw and refused to answer). In the end, the case went to hell and the only just managed to catch the crook, and in all the craziness that involved a small explosion and an auction house con, Peter didn’t have time to give it another thought that week and by the time it did occur to him, Peter figured it didn’t matter. 

He didn’t take Neal to another library though. 

\---   
With all the craziness of the next few months, that included but were not limited to several insane cases, Kate’s situation getting out of hand, Kate dying, and Neal attempting to kill a man, Peter didn’t really have time to consider any of Neal’s strange hangups. 

Then came the Mountain™ incident. 

(At least, that’s how Jones referred to it for the next six months. Peter could practically hear the capitalization.)

They weren't allowed to talk about that day, or what happened in the conference room. Hughes had forbidden it, saying that anyone who brought up would be on insurance fraud for three months. Poor Sanchez found that out the hard way. 

It was the closest Peter had ever seen Hughes coming to crying out of frustration. Jones left and didn’t come back for three hours. Diana sat at her desk and put her head down for the rest of the day. Hughes locked himself in his office. Peter just surveyed the damage with abject horror. 

He still didn’t know what Neal was trying to accomplish by pretending he didn’t believe mountains didn’t exist.

Problem was, it didn’t seem like Neal was lying. Peter knows Neal pretty damn well, and after hearing Neal lie on a regular basis, he does at least have a vague sense of when Neal is just pulling his leg. He seemed serious. But it was so ridiculous, so outrageous, that it simply couldn't be real 

(sometimes Peter wondered if that ever really happened. Then, someone would offhandedly mention mountains and everyone would glance toward Hughes’s door, then Neal. That was enough proof it happened.) 

But Neal was an excellent liar. So Peter couldn’t be certain, even though logically he knew Neal had to be messing with them, a part of him still couldn’t quite believe. 

Peter finally decided it was just a creative way for Neal to get out of paperwork if nothing else

\---   
Peter would say the next mystery of Neal was the radio he kept in his apartment, that never seemed to play any actual music. It only seemed to blare static on occasion. The last time he heard it, they had been working on a case in Neal’s apartment, because technically they were no longer on the case. 

(Damn organized crime, this was Peter’s case.)

“Neal, why do you have it on?” Peter groaned as the radio burst to life again, playing the same steady rise and fall of static it had earlier that day. “Can you please turn that noise off?” 

Neal had the audacity to look offended. “I will not turn it off, Peter!” 

“Neal, it’s just static.” Peter snapped throwing his hands up. “I can’t concentrate!” 

Neal rolled his eyes “I’m sorry Peter,/ It isn’t just noise, there is a message. It’s not my fault you don’t know how to listen.”

Peter could feel the vein in his forehead throbbing. The case they were working on was bad enough, but the static was almost enough to drive him over the edge. “What is it? A criminal code?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Neal scoffed “isn't a code. It’s The Weather.” 

(Peter had no idea what Neal meant by that. He assumed that it as in fact a criminal code, but later when the case was done, no database had ever heard of ‘the weather’ code. At the time Peter just sighed and tried to focus on not throwing the radio off the balcony.) 

\---

Religion wasn’t really something particularly important to Peter. He had been raised Catholic, in that his parents would dress him and his sister up on Easter and Christmas to go to mass. By the time Peter was in college he’d stopped going completely. El hadn’t been raised in a particularly religious household and they settled into a life centered around their jobs, families, and each other. Religion just wasn’t a common topic in the Burke household. 

That wasn’t to say Peter was opposed to discussing it. He also wasn’t going to tell anyone else what they should believe and generally tried to respect people’s opinions on their religion, and with the varied crew at White Collar, there were, every now and then, interesting conversations about religion. 

And, as with all things, Neal’s introduction only made things more interesting. 

“So Caffery,” Diana said, turning to face Neal, who had been flipping through a newspaper he’d gotten from God knows where in the corner of the van “What about you? Do you believe in God? Or have you ever seen an angel, like Jones says he has.” 

There was a hint of teasing in her voice and Jones protested lightly “Hey! I really did see one!” but was largely ignored because everyone in the van, besides Neal, had heard that story at least twice. And Neal’s reaction was far more… interesting. 

Neal, who had been lounging gracefully (as only he could pull off in the crowded surveillance can) sat straight up.. The paper in his hand fell to the floor forgotten as Neal squared his shoulders and recited “Angels do not legally exist.” as if he was reading from a script. His eyes were fixed on a point just beyond Diana and as far as Peter could tell it didn't seem that Neal was acknowledging any of their presences. 

“What the fuck Neal,” Diana said, after a moment of silence, which really summed up Peter’s feelings nicely. Jones let out a laugh that was just as uneasy as Peter felt. 

Diana’s voice seemed to snap Neal out of whatever trance he was in because his posture visibly relaxed and the fog over his blue eyes seemed to vanish and Neal was back with them all at once. 

“Sorry, what did you say Diana? I must have zoned out.” Neal said, shooting her a charming smile, like he hadn’t just spat out a rather unsettling statement, declaring that angels didn’t legally exist. Peter wasn’t even sure what that was supposed to mean. 

“Well, “ Diana said slowly, “I asked you if you believe in God and angels and then you got all- Neal are you ok?” 

Peter had been watching Neal. The moment Diana had said the word angel, Neal had shuddered violently and his hands clenched into fists as he practically doubled over.. “I’m fine.” he managed to bite out through gritted teeth. “I-I just need some air.” 

Neal practically bolted from the van, stumbling down the steps into the cool night air. 

“What.” Jones said after a moment “Was that about?” 

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out.” Peter said, “I’ll be right back.” 

( Peter did not find out what ‘all that’ was about. Neal was already considerably more himself by the time Peter found him leaning against the other side of the van. “Bad Tuna” Neal said with a slightly pained smile. That was a bad lie, especially for neal.,Before Peter could push for a better explanation than ‘ bad tuna’ their perp showed up and the case consumed their next four days.)  
\---  
Neal started campaigning to take Valentine’s Day off almost a week in advance. It started relatively normal. Neal strolled into Peter’s office, somehow managing to look suave as he sprawled into the chair by Peter’s desk, wearing a blinding smile Peter didn’t trust for one second. 

“What do you want, Neal?” Peter asked, half scared of the response- at best he figures the CI would be whining about the lack of interesting cases. Peter privately agreed that mortgage fraud was boring. Neal knew Peter thought that, but if Neal ever got Peter to admit out loud he agreed, he would never hear the end of it. 

Neal scoffed, crossing his arms like a petulant child. “You mean I have to have a reason to come talk to you, Peter? I’m offended that you would so little of me.” 

Peter just raised one eyebrow, leveling neal with a skeptical look. Neal held his indignation for a moment before he slumped in defeat. Peter didn’t even bother to hide his grin. “Fine.” Neal grumbled, as much as Neal ever grumbled, “I want a day off.” 

“A day off?” Peter repeated blankly. That was unexpected. 

“Before you say no,” Neal said Before Peter could even get a word in “I haven’t taken a day off in over two months! I didn’t even complain when I had to come in last Saturday!” 

Peter narrowed his eyes. things were true. He had noticed Neal was suspiciously agreeable about coming in last Saturday, but Peter just chalked it up to the rather interesting art involved. But, this was Neal they were talking about and nothing was ever that simple with him involved. Whatever he was planning, it had been in the works for a while. Peter pursed his lips. Neal and planning usually resulted in a headache for Peter. 

“When?” 

“Next Friday.” Neal flashed Peter a hopeful grin “So does that mean I’m off?” 

“No,” Peter said firmly. It was like having a kid, giving in too easy would spell nothing but trouble. “That means I will consider it.” 

“Thank you!” Neal exclaimed, grinning “I’ll even go finish my reports now!” 

Next Friday. Neal technically could have an occasional day off, that wasn’t out of the question. Peter expected Neal to work- that was the whole agreement, but Neal was still a person, who needed an occasional day off just like everybody else. Except for Peter, if El was to be believed. What would be the harm in giving him one day off, a long weekend? Then something occurred to Peter. “Wait a minute.” 

Neal froze by the door, nearly to freedom, and Peter could see the tiniest bit of guilt on his face when he looked back. Bingo. 

“Friday is Valentine’s Day!” Peter exclaimed, rising from his desk “You want off so you can go on a date!” 

Something flashed across Neal’s face that Peter would almost call hesitancy, but it was gone so fast, Peter dismissed it. Neal had never hesitated once, not when he was after something he wanted. Especially not when he lied. 

“No, I don’t,” Neal said, sounding defensive “I don’t even do Valentine’s day.” 

“Uh-huh,” Peter said, crossing his arms “ The Great Neal Caffery doesn’t do Valentine’s day? Please. You’re the most romantic person I’ve ever met! You’re all about grand gestures.” 

Neal made a disgusted face. “Exactly. It’s not a big romantic gesture if everyone is doing it. Then it’s just cheap. No, I just want a day of Peter. It’s no big deal.” 

Peter wasn’t convinced. Somehow, that story made sense, in a very Neal kind of way, but Peter was almost certain that wasn’t the whole story either. Peter didn’t like that. Neal had to be planning something. “If it’s not a big deal, then you can have Thursday off instead. Do you know how many agents want next Friday off? We’re going to need as many hands on deck as possible.”

Neal grimaced. Bingo again. There was something up. “Peter, please.” Neal said, and it was close to begging as Neal got “I just want next Friday off.” 

Peter’s eyebrows slowly inched up. “Neal, you have no reason to be off.” 

Neal look like he was gearing up to argue, but Peter held up a hand, silencing him. “I’ll consider it, But not if you don’t get your paperwork done.” Peter gave him a pointed look. 

Neal didn’t look happy, but still flashed a grateful “Thank you, Peter.” 

Peter watched Neal meander back to his desk, and to Peter’s surprise, actually begin doing paperwork. Peter sat down and sighed. What was Caffery up to this time?

\-- 

The weekend was thankfully peaceful and didn’t require anyone to go into the office. Peter had almost forgotten about Neal’s request by then when they caught a big case on Monday morning and spent the next three days tracking down a forger who was almost as good as Neal (allegedly) was. 

Then, it was Thursday night, Peter was tired, up to his ears in paperwork, and Neal brought it back up. 

“So, can I have Friday off?” Neal asked casually. Too casually, in Peter’s opinion. The slight tension in his shoulders was the only give away that the con wasn’t just inquiring. Peter only picked up on the tell because he’d spent several years tracking Neal and three more workings in close quarters with him. 

Peter didn’t know what to think. Neal had been so busy thee last few days, spending more than half of them with Peter. And something was definitely up. With each day that passed, Neal looked progressively worse, dark bags growing under his eyes, increased jumpiness, and most damningly, Neal hardly cracked any jokes or hit on the hot museum curator. But there had been no clandestine phone calls to Mozzie, and Peter hadn’t even seen Neal with a woman in the last few weeks, not evne one leaving in the morning. It was strange, how much Neal was just not himself, despite how much of a show he was putting on, that fooled almost everyone bt Peter, who just happened to be a Caffery expert. Despite his strange behavior, Peter was 78% certain that Neal wasn’t going to do anything illegal. These weren’t his usual “I’m going to do something illegal” tells. 

And with Caffery, you really only ever got an 80% guarantee and if it would stop Neal from attempting a puppy dog face that was far more effective coming from a grown man then it should be, then he could have it. 

“Fine.” Peter relented after a moment. 

“Thank you, Peter!” Neal exclaimed, his face lighting up, even as he sprang for the door “Thank you so much!” 

Peter shook his head “Yeah, yeah, yeah. You did good this week. Figured you earned it. But, Neal.” 

Neal paused “I swear to god, if you do anything that causes me to miss my date with Elizabeth, you’re on mortgage fraud for a month. Plus Saturdays.” 

Neal flashed Peter the first real grin he’d seen out of him all week “I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

(Neal didn’t technically interrupt his date, but June did call Peter that afternoon, before he got home, to say she was worried about Neal. She wasn’t home, but was visiting her daughter in Milwaukee, but had gotten a strange text- she wouldn’t read it to Peter, she just asked him to check on Neal in the morning. Peter obliged and found Neal hungover, disheveled, and grumpy, but otherwise fine. Peter didn’t mention the darg bags under his eyes or the obvious signs of crying. Neal would tell him when he was ready)

\--   
Neal was a lot of things. Unexplainable was one of them. The more Peter learned about him, the less he knew. Neal was an enigma. He detested libraries, couldn’t stand to even hear the word angel, vehemently denied the idea that mountains existed, listened to strange static, and hated Valentine day with a passion greater than that for mountains. Neal was also a man with a good heart and a drive to do what he felt was right- even when the law said it was wrong- and most important to Peter, was that they were friends. Family. 

Peter always assumed he’d figure Neal out eventually. Either Neal would tell him or Peter would figure it out on his own (Peter wasn’t genius but he wasn’t a stupid man either. He noticed things.) 

Then Neal had to go and die. 

Who was Peter supposed to call? 

Mozzie of course, and June. Then there was El, and Hughes and everyone Neal worked with, but besides that… who was he supposed to call? People who knew Neal often found themselves friend and foe- and most of them were criminals in the wind with no way for Peter to contact them. 

Did Neal have a mother? Peter assumed not, but he didn’t know. His dad had been a dirty cop (or had he called it secret Police? That had been so long ago…) and Peter had gotten the indication that he was dead, but… who knew? 

Had Neal’s parents already grieved their child, believing him dead when Neal Caffery was born, or did a mother still wait for her son to come home, to return from wherever she thought he was? A mother would wait forever, now, without her son, because of Peter. Because Peter hadn’t been fast enough. Hadn’t been smart enough. Hadn’t been enough to save Neal. He would cry, but Peter had used all his tears. He was numb now, looking at the urn that held Neal’s ashes, and the collage of smiling pictures of Neal beside it. It was his fault. He hadn’t even heard what Mozzie said, or June. He couldn’t hear it. He was underwater, drawing in his guilt and-

“Honey,” El said quietly, starling Peter out of his thoughts, with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Her eyes were red from crying, and she wasn’t even trying to hide the shake in her voice. “It’s your turn.”   
\--  
Thousands of miles away, at an unspecified time, in a small town found on no map or in any data system, a young man, wearing a nice suit and stylish fedora returned home. 

He had no name, in this town, for his old name was dead and so was the one he had favored for many years. In due time, the town would rename him. It would reclaim him. He was not worried about his name. 

People did not call out to him in anger, they did not accuse him of being an interloper. Night Vale was written in his aura and flowed through his veins. Anyone could see that he was a citizen. The nameless young man with the artist's hands walked by the dog park and did not look at it. He did not look at the angels. He smiled at the light floating over the Arbys. 

And the voice on the radio saw this all and spoke of it. It was not every day that someone returned to Nightvale (it was not often that they were allowed to return). 

Cecil, the man on the radio (the Voice, if you will), reported that the man moved through town, straight towards the communal bloodstones. 

“He appears to be offering a prayer to the ancient gods.” Cecil said “Blood, of course, as is traditional, but he appears to also have brought a tuna sandwich. Aiuecnaoxis and Josh, both love sandwiches. And now, oh he’s offering a prayer.” 

Cecil was silent a moment “Listeners, I dare not repeat the full prayer he has offered to our elder Gods- we all know how touchy Josh is about privacy- but I will share with you one small part. He has called out for Peter. He has called or Peter to know peace and to know that he was safe.” 

“I do not know who, where, or when you are Peter I do not know why this man offered this prayer to you, but I can offer this. Peter, I hope that this reaches you. I hope that if nothing else, somewhere, somehow, my words travel through the airwaves and the universe and find your spot in it. I hope that you may find the peace that this nameless man with artists hands has wished for you.” 

“And to you my listeners, I cannot offer anything more. We will celebrate the return of our brother, son, and friend, in the days to come. I know you have questions, but tonight I will leave you with this reminder: some mysteries are not questions to be answered. Others will reveal themselves in time. Goodnight, Night Vale, goodnight.” 

\-----  
Peter found it in himself to stand up. 

He couldn’t look at the urn, or the ocean crashing behind it. (They’d come to Europe for this, the handful of them. They were standing on the coast in France. Mozzie thought it would be fitting and Peter refused to trap Neal in New York in death.) 

Peter had prepared something but the moment he looked out at them it vanished. His mind went blank. How could he do it? How could he sum up Neal’s life in a short, sweet, speech, when there was so much ti say- so much Peter could never say? Suddenly there was a lump in his throat. Apparently he could still cry.

Then a breeze curled around Peter, ruffling the edge to his suit collar. Perhaps it was the jetlag, or the grief, or the bone-deep exhaustion but Peter, for just a moment, would swear he heard a voice. It as a deep voice, soothing a metered. It whispered only one thing “he is safe”

As soon as he heard it, it was gone but inexplicably, peace settled on Peter’s shoulders. It didn’t make sense, not in any way, but Peter just knew, or perhaps he felt, that Neal was… safe. Perhaps later he would dismiss it, but in that moment, the voice was all he had. And Peter knew it had to be true. 

Peter somehow managed a smile “I first heard the name Neal Caffery almost ten years ago. I never thought that one day he’d practically be the third occupant of my house. But, of course, with Neal, you never knew what was coming next with him. Perhaps my favorite story about Neal was…” 

Peter managed a beautiful eulogy, maybe not as eloquent as something Neal himself could pull off, but it was true. It was better than anything Peter thought he could ever do. And somehow the peace stayed, sitting on his heart, even when they opened the urn and spread Neal’s ashes. He held El tightly, as Mozzie spread the ashes over the edge of the sea. The wind caught it as it poured from the urn spreading it out into the water, out to the horizon. 

Neal was finally free.


End file.
